


It Takes All Kinds

by Lortan



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: And I'm not easily disturbed, But since when did reality effect a Lovegood's friendliness, Did you know that Filch/Snape is apparently a thing?, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fic, Fred dies but then he doesn't, Gen, I dunno why, I just want to see what all the fuss is about, I'm hoping for some really demented requests, If anyone knows a good Peeves/Pettigrew, Luna thinks she and Snape are friends, M/M, Other, Pettipeeves?, Please tell me so that I can check it out, Safe to say, So don't feel shy, That greatly disturbed me, They're Not, When I typed in Moaning Myrtle/Peeves it asked if I meant Peeves/Peter Pettigrew, but like, ship drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:16:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lortan/pseuds/Lortan
Summary: I really like writing drabbles, and I like taking challenges from my readers. This is a collection of Harry Potter drabbles dealing with different ships which you, the readers, will suggest in addition to what is already posted. I'm going with a more general meaning of shipping, meaning that not only romantic relationships are accepted, but friendships and rivals and unrequited as well. Hence the title. So if you have a pairing you would like to see, say, unrequited between Harry and Sirius, or something more general, like Harry and Ginny, then just drop a comment and I'll see what I can do!Multiple drabbles per ship will happen, but each will be different, obviously.I cannot guarantee to do your request, and for that matter, I cannot guarantee that even if I do write it, I will write it completely according to your instructions. I will maintain my creative freedom, thank you.Ships, warning, and the person who requested it will be at the beginning of each chapter, unless they wish to remain anonymous.





	1. Let's Try Together

**Author's Note:**

> Unrequited between Harry and Neville, and Neville/Luna. Written at the request of a friend on FanFiction.

Neville is the screw-up, the joke of the school.

Harry is Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and he is the joke of the world.

They see each other as much as jokes generally do. Passing in the hall, on the same side of the room in classes, in the infirmary when they happen to pull some stupid mistake with similar timing, Harry's generally intentional and Neville's generally not.

When Harry is teaching DA and right behind Neville, telling him not only everything he's doing wrong but also everything he's doing right.

When Neville feels almost physical pain over Harry's mistakes in Herbology and can't stop himself from going over to help because Merlin, that is simply not the correct way to repot anything, plant or otherwise.

When Harry is in the air at a Quidditch game and Neville thinks that it would be awfully nice to be up there with him.

When Harry isn't in the air at a Quidditch game, and Neville still thinks it would be awfully nice to be there with him anyway, but the seats next to him are almost always full.

When Harry is dead in Hagrid's arms and Voldemort has won, and Neville can't remember what he does wrong or what he does right, so much as he can remember one blindingly white smile that he always wished would be aimed at him more often.

And then he isn't, and he hasn't, and years later at a wedding, Neville sees that smile again. Aimed at someone else, yes.

But it's there, and Neville doesn't really mind Harry smiling for someone else. He's got a beautiful blond Ravenclaw as his plus one, and he's moving on.

He's just glad that they're not jokes anymore, but epics instead.


	2. Could, Would, Should Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrequited Tom/Harry, background Draco crushing on Tom. Requested by a friend on FanFiction.

Sometimes Tom watches Harry.

He's the perfect Gryffindor, Tom often thinks with a grimace of distaste and a moment of regret.

If things had gone only a bit differently, he could have been the perfect Slytherin.

He wears too much muggle clothing, Tom often thinks with a sneer of disgust and a smidgen of longing.

If things had gone only a bit differently, they would have both been wearing muggle clothing, and still living in an orphanage.

He smiles a lot, Tom often thinks with a frown and a unsettling bump in his chest.

If things had gone only a bit differently, they wouldn't be in different houses, with different friends and different lives, and that smile would be for him.

Shame, that, Tom thinks as he turns back and smiles as happily as he can at Draco, who grins right back, with pink dusted cheeks and continues talking, ignorant of what has just happened.

If things had gone only a bit differently, Tom should have not felt gnawing emptiness in his chest where his heart was supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two exists now. Hurray. 
> 
> ....I know you all hate me but frankly I don't care. *shrugs*
> 
> Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a request, and byeeeee!


	3. The Wishing Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Severus DON'T hate each others guts. Written for chapter 74 of The Bunny Pool.

Sirius has only ever had one friend. Severus.

He's not handsome, in fact his hair is greasy from being unwashed and his skin is rather pale and his dark eyes are often being rolled caustically.

He's not friendly, in fact he's often impatient and snaps frequently, and sometimes when he's angry he says terrible things about wizards born without magic.

He's not gentle, in fact his hugs are jerky and far and few between, and last time he had to heal Sirius' scraped knee he didn't even give him fair warning before washing out the wound with a potion he had brewed, intending to sell. And then he had grumbled about wasting a potion.

He's not a pure blood, in fact his father is a muggle, and they both agree to hate the man because of the scars on Sev's back.

But when his eyes aren't rolling Sirius thinks they're rather nice to look at.

And he always apologises for what he says when he's angry.

And Sirius is honestly surprised that he bothered with the potion in the first place.

And Sirius is a squib, so they're even on that.

Sirius has only ever had one friend, and honestly? That's all he's ever needed to wish for. The well is abandoned without a second glance.


	4. Poltergeists and Featherlights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first request from the comments, and I must say that it is just as weird as I was hoping for. Is there even a ship name for Peeves and Moaning Myrtle? Meeves? Can we make Meeves a thing, even if it isn't already? I dunno. Anyhow, moving on, this was written for Trickster32.

When Myrtle was younger, back before her death, while she was still a nervous Ravenclaw student, she had another problem besides her bad grades, less then ideal looks, and hopeless crush on the Slytherin named Tom Riddle.

That problem went by the name of Peeves.

Yes, Peeves the poltergeist. He was, technically, a problem to everyone. He pulled girls hair, stuck gum in key holes, and if parchment was left unguarded anywhere for more then a few second, he would be there immediately, scattering the pages to the wind.

Myrtle had it a little worse, though. You see, Peeves had taken an especial shine to Myrtle at some point during her miserable school career, and she didn't much appreciate it, because the only form of attention Peeves gave was bad attention.

He did more then pull her hair, he once ripped a chunk of it out.

He put gum between the pages of her textbooks and stuck to the back of her jacket.

Sometimes her notes weren't just scattered, they were obliterated completely.

But it was the day he shredded her homework the morning it was due that was the last straw. They were in an empty corridor; no one wanted to walk to class with silly Moaning Myrtle, as Peeves had often pointed out to her in his teasing. Normally this made her terribly sad and weepy, but today she decided to look on the bright side: this meant that there was no one to hear her snap and start screaming.

And Peeves just stayed there through her vent, a stupid grin on his stupid face, making Myrtle grow steadily angrier and angrier until she gave one final screech of frustration and stormed past, still fuming.

"You look really pretty when you're angry!"

Myrtle gasped, and spun around, but Peeves was already gone.

After being late for class and not turning in her homework, Myrtle got scolded by the teacher, and assigned detention after dinner. She never made it to detention though, because that evening during dinner, Olive Hornby makes fun of Myrtle's glasses, and she's already had such a terrible day that it all built up and she ran away in tears.

In a bathroom she finds solace, and is sobbing and stiffling to her hearts content when the door opens. She hears whispering, or is that hissing? She calls hello in a shaky voice and reaches for the door handle. If Olive is here to make fun of her again, she might as well face it now, she thinks as the door swings open and bangs against the next stall over, instead of later when her face is finally cleared and there are people around.

It's not Olive, she realizes when she sees yellow.

And then she dies.

Only she doesn't realize that at first. When she comes to a few minutes later, she doesn't realize she's a ghost, not until she sees her still body laying stone cold on the floor and in her shock at the sight, she falls straight back through the stall door, where she stays crying until the door opens again.

Olive is the first to find her body, and Myrtle doesn't stick around for long after that.

Then Peeves is the first to find the rest of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah she dies.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment, and byeeeeeeee!


	5. Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Banana Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ship is Drarry. Draco pretends not to know what he's doing but he does, and Harry thinks he knows what he's doing but really he doesn't. Written for NevilleGonnaGiveYouUp on FanFiction.

The apocalypse had happened. And somehow, that wasn't the worst thing. Worse then seeing the landscape in dissaray, Hogwarts reduced to rubble, the earth torn, the fact that they were currently roasting snakes so they wouldn't starve, and the people dying of sickness, there was one thing that, in comparison shouldn't have been that bad, but somehow was.

Draco had picked up a muggle joke book. And he thought it was utterly  _halarious._

"Hey. Hey Harry. What do you call a cow with a twitch?"

"Oh god help me." Harry groaned, dropping his head into his arms.

"Ha! Wrong.  _Beef jerky._  Get it? Do you get it?" Draco asked, oblivious to the other's suffering.

A pause, then, "Harry. Do you have a band aid? "

Harry's head popped up, and he craned his neck around to get a look at the blond and look him over for any obvious wounds. "Are you bleeding? Are you okay?" He asked, concerned. "Do you need me to cast episkey?" Tetanus was everywhere in the soil and could be fatal, and as annoying as Draco could be, he didn't want him to  _die._

"I just scraped my knee falling for you." Draco said proudly, waving the book at Harry with a smug smile on his face, and Harry blinked.

"Wot." He said, eyeing Draco warily for a few moments before realizing that Draco had absolutely no idea that what he had just said was a muggle pick up line. He continued to stare at Draco for a few more moments before shaking his head, and turning back to the fire. "Shut up." He sighed.

Draco remained silent for exactly ten seconds, (Harry had counted) before he started talking again, his previously smooth and mischievous voice now laced with confusion. "Harry, can you explain this one to me?" He asked, and Harry sighed before nodding. Another second passed, and Draco sat down next to him, leaning on him and shoving the book in his face, pointing to the section in question.

"Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got fine written all over you." Harry read monotonely, his entire self utterly unimpressed before he realized something. "Um, Draco? You know what parking tickets are. We saw the no parking signs by that old mall. Didn't I explain them to y-" Harry stopped talking when he looked at the other boy and realized that Draco was smirking.

"Oh. Shit. Drac-mph!" Harry was interrupted rather abruptly by a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! Thanks for reading, please drop a comment or a request, and byeeeeee!


	6. Part 1of Flower Power is Essentially Useless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna decides to give Snape some relationship advice. Snarry. Luna and Snape have some sort of wacky relationship where Luna thinks they're friends but really they're not. Written for a friend on FanFiction.

Today, like most recent days when he had to teach first year Ravenclaws, was quickly proving to be exhausting. The reason for this exhaustion that was rarely associated with first year Ravenclaws so much as it was second year Gryffindors, or for that matter, any class whatsoever when Slytherins and Gryffindors mixed, was currently eating a dittany stalk.

"Lovegood. Spit that out." He ordered crossly, attempting to glare at the girl in question, not that it would do any good.

"Yes, sir." Luna answered smoothy, spatting the plant out and then picking up a rose blossom instead.

Snape swatted it out of her hand before she could get it to her mouth. "Don't eat that, either. Or," He said, as she went for the blueberries. "any of your potions ingredients."

Luna paused, and dropped her hand with a surrendering look. "Fine. But I don't think that just because you're crushing on one of us, you should punish all of your students." She said, a bit snarkily, and started chopping what was left of her dittany.

"What."

"You heard me." She said, sounding a bit like a put upon mother, and started working on crushing her snake fangs, occasionally licking the ivory colored powder off her fingers. "I don't think that you should punish us all just because you've got your eyes on Harry Potter."

"I- I don't- detention, Miss Lovegood!" He finally managed to croak out, but all she did was start humming and bopping her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to make this a second part at some point. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a request or some other comment if it pleases you to, and have a lovely day! Byeeeeee!


	7. Say Yes to the Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Luna are friends. Written for Streitkartoffel.

"It's not quite you." Someone said gently from behind her, as Ginny was staring contemplatively down at her dress for the Yule Ball.

It was a pretty thing, she supposed. For something worn a good twenty or so years prior by her mum, at least. Like almost everything in her family, it was a handmedown. She may have been able to avoid some of the reusing by being born a girl, but even she could not avoid it entirely.

It was a deep, dark, dull green, olive almost, with a respectable neckline and a tiny bit of decorative gathering at its tight, belted waist, specifically designed to show off one's waist line, and a tiny hint of creamy white hand crochet lace peeking from the bottom.

Definately pretty.

Yet she couldn't help feeling like the voice was right, that it was a bit... not her. It was her mother, sure, especially when paired with the multicolored knitted shawl it had been sent with, and the pearly brooch, with a spattering of real diamond flecks inlayed into the newly shined silver.

But she wasn't her mother.

And it wasn't her.

"Isn't it?" She asked anyways, picking the dress up and holding it against her, and turning to meet Luna's silvery gaze. How in the world her friend had gotten into the Gryffindor girls dorms was beyond her, but no doubt Luna had her ways.

"No. It's not the right kind of bright, and it isn't lovely at all. And you look prettiest with your hair down. Or maybe with little bits tied back. Like a crown." Luna said softly, and started playing with a chunk of her own hair.

Ginny turned to the mirror, and looked at herself, and wondered how Luna knew she had been planning to put her hair up. Lavender must have told her at some point.

Then, when she looked back, Luna was gone.

And she would never know how the hell she had gotten in in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not completely satisfied with this, but I'm not sure how to fix it without completely rewriting it either, so. *shrugs*
> 
> Was anybody else ever bothered by how Luna-ish Ginny's ball gown was in the movies? I feel like Luna probably had a part in that, so that's what I wrote. And after this, she probably went back once Ginny had left the room for something, and left one of her own dresses. And detailed instructions on how to tie Ginny's hair back in a very precise way.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and byeeeeee!


	8. Janitor and Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .... Oh god, how do I explain this? Umbridge/Filch. Written for RJ311.

From the very start, theirs was a forbidden love.

She was a beautiful witch from the upper society. With pretty brown hair as silky as the velvet bow that rested on it and a melodious voice, clothed in heavenly looking pink jumpers and green tweed.

He was a lowly squib janitor, with shabby clothes and a worn face, and rough skin on his hands.

She bossed him around like she was expected to, and he always did as asked, thinking that maybe, maybe someday, they could break these constraints and truly love one another.

Day after day, looking into those pretty, controlling eyes, he would give her a small smile and do whatever task she had set for him. Be it just regular cleaning, nailing up rule after rule, or hunting down troublemakers.

He never even got a word of thanks.

But he knew, even after she had been sent off to Azkaban, that forbidden as it was, they loved one another deeply.

And besides, Filch thinks, pushing his broom.

They would always have their shared love of cats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have I done.
> 
> 'kay, so not too happy with this, but I did do it, so you hafta give me some credit there, okay? I was going for funny, but then that sixth line happened and it ended up vaguely sad. I'm sorry.
> 
> Anyhow, thanks for reading, have a luverly day, and byeeee!


	9. Silly Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny/Harry and Ginny/Tom. Written for myself. Don't you judge.

Ginny doesn't just love Harry because he's famous and she isn't, or because he's rich and she's poor, or because he's a Potter and she's a Weasley.

She knows that some people think that, though.

Ginny doesn't do a lot of things for the reasons some people think she does them. She doesn't befriend Luna because she pities her. She just think the dreamy Ravenclaw girl seems interesting. She doesn't play quidditch for the attention. She just likes the wind in her face, and being good at something. She doesn't recover immediately after the Tom Riddle's diary incident. She just slowly stops missing the feeling of having a friend in her pocket, of having someone who always knows what to say, and someone who thinks she's more then everyone else seems to think she is.

Someone who thinks that she's maybe a little bit special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom you manipulative little muffin.
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a request, and have a lovely day! Byeeeeee!


	10. Myths and Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't write for the twins without writing at least one sad thing, so I figured I'd get it all out first before writing what was actually requested. Written for Streitkartoffel.

So many things will never be done again, George sometimes thinks to himself. 

He'll never again pull a prank with his laughing double, never again make mischief and crack jokes with his grinning partner in crime. There will be no more finishing one another's sentences and speaking in turn, and no more wandering the halls past curfew, simply marvelling at the phenomenon of having someone with him, someone who essentially is him but also completely different, someone who just gets him before he even gets himself.

Sometimes he looks at new pictures and feels like someone's cut a vital part out with scissors and replaced the missing piece with a spell, because there's an empty spot beside him that used to be filled.

Sometimes he sees himself in the mirror and gasps, before abruptly wishing he hadn't, because the face gasps right back and it's not mockingly, it's just really his face in the reflection, the mirror doing its job like a slap to the face.

Sometimes he'll pause in the middle of a sentence waiting for someone else to finish it, before realizing that it's never going to happen, and that everyone is waiting for him to finish with a pitying expression on their faces.

Sometimes he has to smile to himself because he knows that that's the closest he's going to get.

It's a myth that twins feel one another's pain, and he's thankful for that, because wherever Fred is, he doesn't want him to be hurting like he is ever since he looked down and saw his own lifeless eyes staring up at him, and realized that it all was over, all of it, everything he cared about in the world, over and gone like a dream he'd been woken up from.

But sometimes he also wishes it was true, because he wishes he could have least felt his brother leaving, and have been there to say goodbye, because it's hard living with a ghost of things never to be done again following your every footstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm just gonna go and hug Ren now, 'kay? 'Kay.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for all the fish, feel free to leave a request, and byeeee!


	11. The Art and Trials of Lock Picking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afore promised twin fic that doesn't include death. Written for Streitkartoffel.

_The Time: 10:32, thirty to minutes past curfew, on a school night._

_The Place: Outside of Filch's office._

_The Initiative: Break into the aforementioned office._

_The Culprits to be: Fred and George Weasley, of course. Who else?_

"Do you have the thing?" Asked Fred quietly. Or was it George?

"Whoa, I thought you were bringing the thing!" Exclaimed George in a loud sort of whisper, or was it Fred?

"Well I thought you were!"

Well I didn't, because I thought _you_ were!" George spat, and they fell silent, glaring at one another, that special kind of anger that only they could feel towards one another. _How could you screw up so badly when you're me?_

"Gred?" Said Fred eventually.

"What?" Grumbled his twin crossly. In reply, Fred burst out laughing, which did nothing for keeping them uncaught, and tossed the transfigured bobby pin at the other.

"You should have seen your face!" He giggled, and slapped a hand over his mouth to keep his chortles from giving them away. "Of course I had it! What sort of failure do you think I am?"

His answer came in the form of a stinging hex followed by a hug, before George finally joined him in muffled laughter.

They approached the door, arms slung over one another and George brandishing the weapon of their choice, a transfigured bobby pin.

If magical methods of entry didn't work, why not try muggle?

_The Time: 10:40, forty minutes past curfew, on a school night._

_The Place: Outside of Filch's office._

_The Initiative: Get back to Gryffindor territory undiscoverered._

_The Culprits: Fred and George Weasley, of course, who else?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I hate this a little bit. It kind of sucks, doesn't it?
> 
> Thanks for readings, please have a great day, and leave a comment or request if it should strike your fancy! Byeeeeee!


	12. Isn't It Just One Big Soap Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco crushing hard on Charlie Weasley. Written for Melati Asri.

This, Draco thought, this tall, freckled handsome hunk of Gryffindor sitting on his Aunt Andromeda's couch, was the bane of his existence.

He despised it almost as much as he swooned at the sight of it.

"Oh, hey, Draco!" Charlie said politely when he finally noticed Draco at the doorway, and lunged to his feet, grinning madly. The blond boy struggled not to go weak in the knees.

Merlin's fishnets, he was doomed.

"Um, hello, Charlie." Draco mumbled. Not that a Malfoy would ever mumble. "What're you doing here? "

Charlie's smile was brighter then a lightbulb. "Tonks and I are going to go hang out while I'm in town and she's got the day off from training! I'm just waiting for her to put on something other then her pajamas. " His eyes twinkled with amusement, and Draco about died. "You wanna come?"

"Inviting my kid brother now, are you?" A new voice interrupted before he could reply, and Draco looked over his shoulder to see his cousin grinning at him, her hair bright pink and her eyes turning violet, wearing jeans and a leather jacket instead of her flannels. "Not that I mind, of course, Drakey. Letting loose for a while would do you good! Don't want to get wrinkles, do ya?" She asked him brightly and slipped into the room to grab a handful of floo powder from the fireplace.

"A Malfoy never gets wrinkles." Draco said snootily in response, and smiled when she giggled, before he remembered that Charlie was still standing right there and he immediately shut up. "And, uh, no, I think I have some summer homework left to do. Have fun though!" He said quickly.

Tonks shrugged and threw the powder into the dying flames, called out the name of what sounded to Draco like some stereotypical dirty old pub, and waved as she disappeared.

Charlie gave him one last smile before he followed, and as soon as the green flash faded, Draco's knees buckled and he wobbled over to the nearest sofa, where he sat and buried his face in his hands.

"Even I found that painful to watch." The painting of some distant relative that hung above the fireplace said matter of factly, flipping her blond hair back and hugging the little red dachshund in her lap closer. "And I've sat through soaps with Andy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason the moment I admitted that I'm terrible at dialogue that's all that my brain was coming up with. Isn't that just the way it is.
> 
> Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a request if you have one, and byeeee!


	13. Black Hearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry thinks Bellatrix is his mum. Written for Chapter 179 of The Bunny Pool, hopefully with their permission.

"Harry!" Bellatrix yelled, marching through the tiny rooms of the house that she, her husband, and the kidnapped Potter infant had been forced to live in since the hunt for leftover Death Eaters had begun shortly after the Dark Lord's fall.

She hated the house and all that it stood for. But one small mercy was that there weren't a lot of rooms for a boy to get lost in.

She found the three year old under the kitchen table, covered in spiders, looking out between the table legs at her with a happy smile on his squishy, scarred face.

Okay, so maybe she'd dropped him or lost track of him a few times over the years. So what? He was still living, wasn't he? And he did have most of his fingers and toes.

"Harry!" She snapped , and stalked forward. "I've been calling for you! Why didn't you come!" It was more of an accusation then a question, and Harry knew it.

"Mumma!" He burbled anyways. "Tommy says tha spiwer aren't the killers. The Chamber is bedder den dat."

Bellatrix rolled her dark eyes and dropped onto her hands and knees, crawled halfway under the table, and dragged him out from under it, giggling along with him when spiders skittered over her hands and up her arms.

"Tell Tommy to stop dragging you off for secrets at nap time, then, you little brat!" She crooned, and scrambled clumsily up, keeping the little boy tucked to her chest as she rose. "He can haunt you while you dream instead."

"I don't have a naptime!" Harry exclaimed, and looked at her with big green mudblood eyes on a face that screamed Black.

"Don't you?" Bella asked, surprised. "What do you have, then?"

"We hurt any da people who knock onna door and eat sweets." He told her seriously, with three year old frankness that only the extremely honest or extremely manipulative toddler could manage.

"...of course. My mistake." She told him indulgently.

Clearly he had the Black spirit, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually want to write a longer fic along these lines because, well, I think it would be fun. But for now, this seemed like something doable. And vaguely realistic, in that odd way that fictional characters can be. I mean, honestly, did you really think ANYONE Bella raised would walk away unscathed ?
> 
> Anyhow, until I get working on that actual fic, I plan to include one or two more drabbles like this in the future, so be forewarned.
> 
> Anyhow, thanks for reading, have a nice day, and please feel free to drop a comment or a request for me to consider! Byeeeeee!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny loves her brothers, okay? Written for no one in particular.

Ginny loves her brothers, all six of them, starting at Bill and ending with Ron.

They're all the best boys she knows, each one smart and funny and strong and willing to protect her, each in their own way.

They each smile at her and tell her how they love her, and she returns the gestures with the knowledge that every word, every grin, every look shared between the seven of them, is one hundred percent true.

Yet, once she wakes up after the Chamber of Secrets, those smiles seem a bit more strained, and the words "would die for you" are added on.

She doesn't want anyone to die for her, but she appreciates the sentiment, and loves the hugs.

And if she sometimes enjoys running into them under the mistletoe at Christmas time a little bit too much from then on, then, well.

She doesn't think that much more needs to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be a little bit demented. I don't much care, though.
> 
> Thank you for reading, have a very nice day, and please leave a request! I mean, it probably wouldn't kill you now, would it? Anyhow, byeeeee!


	15. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny are friends, possibly more, and their relationship with the creature in the forest is unclear, but presumably at least somewhat romantic. Written for dedybear, but with considerable changes from the original request.

There's something in the woods around Harry's school, Hogwarts. He'd seen it.

With long black arms and pretty red eyes the colour of roses and a lower half of twisting, constantly contorting shadows, it is the stuff of nightmares.

With a face more handsome then an artist could dream and a voice like violin music, it is the stuff of dreams you wake from, wishing you were asleep again.

Ginny's seen it too. Some kids have. Some kids haven't. It's not out at a certain time, or in a certain place. It just chooses to reveal itself when it wishes. Some people say the whole thing is made up, and that's what Harry wants to disprove.

They're hoping it will be out tonight. They're going to go out and actually look for it tonight, despite cerfew, despite Ginny's friend Luna and her frantic warnings.

Hermione was supposed to come. And Ron. But Ron was already asleep, and Hermione tried to bite when they tried to take her book away. Evidently the upcoming tests are not sitting well with the bushy haired maiden.

Harry and Ginny go into the woods alone.

They never come back out.

You see, there really is something in the woods around Harry's school. A creature with a face like sin and bright red eyes and twisting shadows instead of feet. There are two children in its lair, one a boy and one a girl, black hair and bright ginger, green eyes and mocha brown.

They know its name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what I'm writing, but it's late so that's my excuse. That and that I recently read this great fic where Tom was a monster in the forest and Harry was freaking terrified that he would kill everyone he loved, and that clearly bled into this in some ways.
> 
> Poor Luna though. People really should listen to her more often.
> 
> Thank you for reading, leave a request if you like, and byeeeeee!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley. Requested by Any Anon, but changed from the original request in that it's never explicitly mentioned whether or not Tom is even real.

Sometimes, even after the Chamber of Secrets is long lost history to everyone but her and Harry, Ginny sees him in the shadows.

Dark hair, darker eyes, and a face like sin.

Watching her.

Seeing through her.

Charisma rolls off him in waves, his confidence and ambition tempting like a flytrap to an insect. He's beauty reincarnate, a classic, timeless kind of handsome, the kind that has existed since the beginning of time and always will.

Sometimes he smiles, sometimes he smirks. Sometimes he glares at her with pure hatred in his dark eyes, turning them red. Mostly he just stares.

She knows no one else sees him.

Some twisted part of her enjoys it, and thinks that that's the best part of seeing Tom Riddle. Even after all this time, the thing that originally attracted her to him remains the same, and it still holds true.

He's all hers and hers alone, and she doesn't have to share him with anybody.

He's all hers, and she intends to keep it that way. 

She sees right through him, too, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I wrote anything actually meant for publishing, so I'm trying to get myself back in the game.
> 
> As always, requests are highly sought after, and leaving one will earn you a fictitious cookie and a mental hug. Thank you for reading, have a great day, and byeeeee!


	17. No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry/Tom. Written by myself, for myself.

Harry never really grew up. Which was fine, Tom is pretty sure. Maybe. He didn't really mind taking care of the younger man. He never has, even when they were just little boys and Tom was struggling to keep them both afloat in the orphanage, a demon's child and a "special " teacher's pet.

And it's not as if Harry doesn't occasionally manage a moment or two if surprising clarity and maturity, lucid poking through his craziness for a mere fraction of time before he's back in five year old seer mode, speaking in simple broken sentences about things that seem mundane but later reveal themselves to be serious. Like one day when he asked Tom if he was feeling tired after work, looking surprisingly shrewd for a second, then before Tom could reply he dropped the bomb that there would be a second world war and gave Tom the puppy eyes for no apparent reason, before wandering off to curl up under the kitchen table, one of his favourite spots to hole up and get lost amongst the visions.

(Tom, at the time, was not sure whether to be concerned about another war or amazed that he still even fit under there. Even if his husband was still more or less a child, he was a full grown man, albeit a bit on the small and fragile side, and yet he always seemed determined to squeeze himself into nooks and crannies, as if he was still hiding from the world after all these years.)

Still. Even if it was supposedly fine, sometimes being married to someone with the mental capacity of a kitten was endlessly frustrating, in the strangest, saddest of ways.

Because what bothered Tom wasn't that Harry wasn't willing to help Tom, (he very much was, Harry sometimes seemed to essentially be a housewife for all his dedication to doing all of the household chores.) or that he was still not the talkative type. (He absorbed words like a sponge, but let them out like a very extremely slow hour glass.) It wasn't even the fact that sometimes Tom came home and Harry literally couldn't remember him.

(It had stung horribly the first few times, but after a few years of coming home to blank eyes and a tentative "...dad?" (Apparently their resemblance of one another had only grown with age) he had grown used to having to reintroduce himself to his own husband. It helped that he had acquired a pensieve just for those occasions.)

No, it wasn't any of those things, as much as they hurt him or bothered him or didn't. What annoyed him more than anything else was that, when Harry hadn't grown up, he lost the excuse of "he's only young. But he'll grow up."

Harry, Tom had to face it now, would never really grow up. Which was fine, Tom was pretty sure. He still didn't really mind, and doubted he ever would. He loved Harry just the way he was: birds nest hair, expressive killing curse eyes, penchant for spiders and rock collecting, constant mumbling and helpfully handing out things a person wouldn't need until days later, hiding in dark spaces, and all.

He just wishes that he could at least know that, when Harry gives him those big green puppy eyes and mumbles that he loves him before spouting random facts about next weeks weather, he could know for sure that the other actually knew what he was talking about, and wasn't just a scared kid trapped in an adults body, trying to please the only reliable figure in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't even a drabble any more. It's too long. It's like a short chapter. And some parts may not make perfect sense. But in my defence, it's four thirty in the morning for me, and I'm delirious.
> 
> So like, this is actually an AU that I really love, the whole, Seer!Harry in Tom Riddle's time, and they're friends, thing. I've wanted to write a fic this for a while, in fact, to see if I could maybe put my own spin on it. 
> 
> So in this version, we're going to say that little Harry was mysteriously pulled through space and time, at some point along the way handed the ability to see the future, and he's been significantly effected by this event in several ways. He's pretty much what I assume a child who went through the Dursley's abuse followed by a mostly loveless childhood at an orphanage would be like, and as you can tell, he's a bit dotty. Tom, of course, instantly became interested in the new kid who could literally see the future, even if no one else believed it to be anything but bizarre coincidences, and took Harry under his wing, more or less, quickly forming a tight attachment when he realized that they were both freaks, even if Harry was better accepted by their peers, somehow. (Dunno why, exactly, but he was super helpful, I suppose) Their relationship continued all through Hogwarts, Tom at some point falling in love with his friend and not bothering to deny himself for long, with Harry accepting this new element to their relationship with not really any particular opinion about it, negative or positive. They graduated, and a few years later, Tom's still a manipulative little punk but Harry takes up too much of his time for him to go a-dark-lording, and viola! Here we are! A bizzare domestic life full of spiders and offhanded remarks about upcoming great events in history, and Tom doing his best not to hate himself for loving a man who is essentially a scared, eager to please child trapped in a very attractive body.
> 
> Ooh boy, was that a wall of text or what!
> 
> Anyhow, so if you enjoyed this and think that I should try my hand at one of these fics some day, please leave a comment along those lines. Thank you for reading, and byeeeeeeee!


	18. Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pandora falls in love, gets married, and has a child. Written for no one in particular, so much as that I just really love Luna.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Pandora. She had mottled blond hair and silvery eyes, and thin skin the colour of skim milk, behind which you could see the fine webbing of her veins. Pandora looked like this her entire life, and everyone said that it was because she was her parents child. They said that she took right after them. They said it when she was ten, when she thirteen, when she was fifteen, when she was a young woman twenty years of age, beautiful and talented and fascinated by so many things.

It was then, twenty years of age, that she met Xinophilius, and first fell in love.

He was a lot more unkempt than the sort of man she would have expected to fall in love with. But then again, she figured it didn't really matter. She knew spells to clean up after him, and she could deal with a husband who occasionally forgot to brush his hair just fine. He was fun to be around, and brilliant in his own way, and a peculiar sort of charming, and he loved her back. She supposed that that was really all that mattered.

At twenty one years of age, they married. As twenty two, they had their first child. Pandora's gossamar skin glowed like every mothers skin does, and Xenophilius claimed that when the sun hit her right, he could see a child who looked just like her, tucked away inside her belly. When Pandora heard that, her skin glowed twice as much. She glowed like the moon, and they named the baby Luna.

Luna grew up like any child of two eaually strange and genius parents is wont to. With classic novels instead of easy readers as bedtime stories, messy mornings as her mother juggled her latest spellcrafting discovery with making eggs and toast, half understood jokes from her dad that were funny anyways, and magic everywhere. She did indeed look just like her mother, with ratty blond curls and silvery eyes, but Pandora liked to think that there was a little of her father in there too. Maybe in the space betwixt her eyes, or the slightly more human tone to her skin. In the end, though, it didn't really matter. Pandora would love their daughter, even if she looked like a nargle.

Days passed in glorious hazes of happiness and love. Xeno came to be the editor of a newspaper. Pandora's discoveries earned her recognision in the most studius of curcles. Luna grew like a weed, all secret smiles and small stretching limbs. She was becoming her parent's child in so many ways, everyone who met her said. They said it when she was five, when she was seven, when she was eight and almost nine. They said it when she was nine, and had just witnessed one of those parents untimely demise.

She's a young woman twenty years of age now, beautiful and talented and fascinated by so many things. They still say it. She prays that they'll continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, probably too long to actually count as a drabble, but who cares?
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a request as I kind of desperately need them, and have a nice day! Byeeeeeeee!

**Author's Note:**

> Well there you go. Attempt number one. Let's see how this mess goes, shall we?
> 
> Thanks for reading, please drop a comment or a compliment in the comments, and have a lovely day. Byeeeeee!


End file.
